


Ineffable Holiday: Scarves

by livingforazirowley



Series: Ineffable Holiday 2019 [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Bored, Helping Crowley, I miserably fail to make it about the holidays, Ineffable Holiday, Knitting, M/M, Pining Crowley, Scarfs, ineffable husbands, prompt list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:09:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingforazirowley/pseuds/livingforazirowley
Summary: Aziraphale has too much free time in his hands and starts looking for a new hobby. Scarves are involved.This is Day 10 of An Ineffable Holiday prompt list.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Holiday 2019 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563967
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36
Collections: An Ineffable Holiday 2019





	Ineffable Holiday: Scarves

Not having to follow orders from Heaven had given Aziraphale some spare time. At first, he committed to catching up with all the reading he had not been able to do during the eleven years he had spent gardening at the Downling’s. Soon, he was done with that so he acquired a few hundred more books that were on his centuries old wish list and kept on reading. He would occasionally stop for a few hours or even a few days, just enough time to enjoy a delightful dinner or perhaps a weekend in Paris.

It only took him one year to be completely up to date. After that, he frequently found himself pacing around the bookshop, arranging and rearranging the priceless collection until he couldn’t come up with yet another bizarre system that would keep potential customers away.

With no more book-related things to do, he resolved to take on a new hobby.

Even though he was aware that it had come out of style a while ago, his first attempt was to get back to dancing the gavotte dancing. Sadly enough, he found out that the Hundred Guineas Club had been closed for a few decades. Crowley offered to look for dance studios were they would teach similar techniques, but the angel refused the offer, arguing that it wouldn’t be the same.

Instead, he moved on to plan B: cooking. He signed up for some cooking classes in a little Italian restaurant down the street that smelled of basil and tomato sauce. The first few things they learned had been fairly easy. However, dough turned out to be Aziraphale’s true hereditary enemy. Mistakes that no miracle could solve were made.

Disheartened, he resigned and went back to the bookshop where Crowley had been waiting for him. When the demon saw the disappointment in Aziraphale’s face, he immediately pulled out his phone and started looking for other potential hobbies that could suit the angel. 

“What about knitting?” Crowley suggested, scrolling down the screen. “It looks doable and you get to make things. Soft things, which I bet you like?” The demon showed Aziraphale some videos that he seemed to find pleasant enough. A snap from a slender hand took up the entire table with knitting supplies, including various sets of needles and a couple dozens of wool balls, in a wide variety of pastel colors with some black and some red splattered here and there.

A few drinks later and some hours spent watching knitting videos, Aziraphale decided to give it a try. Next option would be gardening, though, as he hadn’t done so bad during his time as brother Francis. Crowley quickly discarded the idea.

And that’s how Aziraphale started knitting. He quickly grasped the concept, smart as he was, and produced foot after foot of fabric. However, space vision turned out to be a quality for the non-angelic beings but that didn’t stop him. Not so long after, the bookshop was covered in contorted jumpers, gloves with seven fingers and standard quality scarves.

“I think you should stick to scarves, angel.” Crowley said one day, picking up what seemed to be a hat that would only fit a fully grown mammoth. 

“Perhaps I should…” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “Would you like one?” He beamed.

“A scarf? For me? Uh, not really into your pastels, angel. But thank you anyway.” Crowley said as he idly ran his fingers over the soft fabric of an unidentified piece of clothing.

“You could choose the colours. I wouldn’t mind. And I do have a few red and black wool balls. Maybe even an aubergine one.” Aziraphale started fumbling around, trying to find them. “You will probably know better than me which colours I have.” He smiled softly at Crowley, silently thanking him once again for the little miracle.

“Well, if I can pick the colours then I’m in,” he said. “Let me help you.” Crowley snapped his fingers once more and produced exactly the two balls he wanted for his scarf, black and crimson. “Here, I want these.”

“Lovely colours, dear.” Aziraphale took the wool and promptly started working the needles. “You can take a nap in the meantime if you would like to. I did make a wonderful blanket, it’s over there,” Aziraphale gestured towards it. “Take it and I’ll wake you up once I’m done.”

Crowley obliged and rapidly fell asleep to the sound of the clicking needles.

“Crowley, dear. Wake up. I have finished the scarf, would you like to try it on?” Aziraphale gently patted the demon’s shoulder. Crowley groaned in response before peeping through his eyelashes. Aziraphale was bent over him and had his hands on his back, hiding something. It took Crowley a little bit of blinking before he could focus. “Are you ready?” Aziraphale was wiggling with excitement.

“Uhg, yeah? I guess so.” Crowley rubbed his right eye with the back of his hand, stretched his long limbs and let out a satisfied yawn. “I am. Go ahead, what you got for me?” He said once he was sitting.

The angel wiggled a little bit more from where he was now standing. He paused for a moment before he ceremoniously revealed what he had been hiding behind his back.

A damned. Red and black. Tartan scarf.

“Tartan!? Are you bloody kidding me?” Crowley snapped, internally screaming at himself for not having foreseen that treason. 

“You don’t like it?” Aziraphale’s smile dropped to the ground.

“No, no, no. I didn’t say that.” Crowley quickly stepped back. “Actually, I think… I might be wearing it tonight. To the Ritz.” Crowley bit his tongue.

“Would you do that?” The angel was smiling again and it was all it took Crowley to nod. “Would you like to try it on?” He offered, stepping a little bit closer and offering the scarf to the demon.

“Yeah, sure, why not…” Crowley sighed and offered his nape so Aziraphale could put the scarf around his neck. It was fluffy and warm, he almost rose his shoulders just to feel it brush against his cheeks. It would probably be fine if he didn’t look at it. He raised his head again to find Aziraphale looking at him, still clutching the ends of the scarf and slightly tugging as if pondering something.

“You look rather dashing, Crowley.” As if he had suddenly remembered something important he had forgotten about, Aziraphale let go of the scarf and excused himself, a hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. Crowley stood there, scarf dangling from his neck and staring at the angel fussing around. Perhaps next time, he thought. Even if it takes another six thousand years, whatever it would take, but never too fast. Not again.

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighy, I know I said I wouldn't be posting anything until the weekend but the prompt just got me. Also, sorry not sorry for the end lol


End file.
